r18novel Chapter 487 Harry's Scars
Chapter 487 Harry's Scars
Chapter 487 Harry's Scars
Harry's scars started hurting again.
It was the morning after they returned from the headmaster's office. Siron got dressed and was about to go to the Great Hall for breakfast when he ran into a haggard-looking Harry in the hallway as soon as he stepped out of his dormitory.
He looked as if he hadn't slept all night; his face was deathly pale, and he was walking unsteadily.
Later, Ron told him that in the middle of the night, Harry suddenly sat up in bed and shouted, waking up everyone in the dormitory.
"I didn't mean to," Harry said, pouring himself a glass of iced pumpkin soda. "I just—it hurts so much. My scars have never hurt like that before, it feels like they're going to split my head open."
“I don’t mean to blame you, Harry,” Ron said. “I mean—can you tell us now why your scar is so painful?”
Gryffindor dormitories usually house five people. In Harry's dormitory, besides Ron, there were Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas.
But Harry didn't want the other three to know that his scar was aching, so when Ron asked him about it last night, he just said he had a nightmare.
The three of them only complained a few times before going back to sleep. Ron was no exception—he was so tired that he didn't even realize when he had fallen asleep.
Harry cautiously looked around. It was still early, and only a few fifth-year students were eating in the Great Hall.
"I dreamt about Voldemort," Harry said, and then Ron accidentally knocked over the milk jug in front of him with a thud.
"I know what you're going to say," he said before Harry could speak, "but it's an instinctive reaction. I just can't control myself, you understand?"
"Don't interrupt!" Hermione glared at him, then looked at Harry. "Go on, what happened to Voldemort?"
'
"I didn't see clearly, but he seemed very angry," Harry thought for a moment and said, "I heard him yelling, and someone was kneeling on the ground—oh!"
Before Harry could finish speaking, he cried out in pain and instinctively raised his hand to rub his forehead.
Strangely, the moment his hand touched the scar on his forehead, he immediately pulled it back, as if he had touched a red-hot iron.
Fortunately, this situation passed quickly. Harry, with one hand covering his forehead, leaned against the table, panting.
"What's wrong?" Ron asked with concern.
"He's throwing a tantrum again." Harry wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"You saw that person again?" Hermione frowned.
She didn't know Harry's situation, nor did she understand why he could see Voldemort doing something at school, but her intuition told her that this was not a good thing.
"Yeah, there was a brief flash of light," Harry said.
"Are you sure you saw Voldemort?" Siron asked. "How tall was he? Was he an adult or a child?"
"I...I don't know." Harry shook his head. "I didn't see Voldemort, I just heard his voice. I saw someone kneeling on the ground, begging for his forgiveness—oh, and there seemed to be an extra witch; she wasn't here last night."
"But that's impossible." Ron's voice changed, and his face looked even worse than Harry's, who hadn't slept all night. "That person—wasn't he already dead? How come what you just said made it sound like he was completely resurrected?"
"Have you forgotten what I told you?" Harry reminded him. "It was during the holidays when my scar started hurting for the first time in years. That night I dreamt that a dozen giant snakes gave birth to a baby, and that baby was Voldemort."
"But—wasn't this just a dream?" Ron said, his expression conflicted. "Of course, I believe you no matter what, I can assure you of that. But you only had a dream, you didn't actually see the mysterious man come back to life, did you?"
"You know, I often dream that I get a perfect score and become the president of the boys' student council. But you know, my best grade is only an E (exceeding expectations), and I'm not even a class monitor."
It was clear that Ron was instinctively resisting the news that Voldemort would make a comeback, and this time, Hermione, unusually, shared his opinion.
It wasn't that they didn't want to believe Harry; quite the opposite, they knew from their first year that Voldemort had been trying every possible way to make a comeback.
Judging his success solely based on a dream is somewhat hasty.
"Is it possible that you're having nightmares because you've been doing too much homework lately?" Hermione asked tentatively.
The recent divination class still focuses on dream interpretation. Professor Sybil Trelawney asks them to continue recording their daily dreams and then use "The Dream Interpretation Guide" to find the meaning of these dreams.
Harry hadn't written anything before, and it wasn't until the end of get out of class was approaching that he made up some dreams. Hermione always scoffed at them, thinking that his choice to occupy the end of get out of class was just a waste of time.
"I...I don't know—" Harry also became hesitant.
Those dreams were so real that he could clearly feel the anger in Voldemort's voice and the deep fear in the hearts of the Death Eaters as they knelt there.
It all seemed as if he had personally experienced it.
But Hermione's point is valid; it was just a dream, and the fact that the experience was so vivid is definitely not right.
"Maybe I should talk to Sirius," Harry said thoughtfully, head down.
"I suggest you don't do that," Siron said.
"Ah, why?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Because Sirius is now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Sirius said.
Because he had promised Dumbledore to keep it a secret, he couldn't tell Harry that Sirius might have a problem now, and that his scar would only lead him into a trap.
So he changed his wording.
"Given how much Sirius cares about you, he'll definitely want to find out the truth once he finds out about this, but this matter is related to Voldemort."
"Have you forgotten? Professor Moody was injured while investigating Voldemort and the Death Eaters. And now Sirius Black, just like him, has become a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—"
Although Siren didn't say it explicitly, Harry immediately understood what he meant—the curse of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
"You mean, Sirius might get hurt because of this?"
"Maybe not, maybe worse—nobody can guarantee that," Sirius said. "But just in case, I suggest you go directly to Professor Dumbledore. He's at the school right now and might be coming for breakfast soon."
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